Sweet Tea
by DreamHolder
Summary: America and England reminisce about the past. Sweet fluff! Please R


"England," America sat across from the older country who was sipping on his afternoon tea. "Why do you drink so much tea? It'll make you iron deficient."

"Oh stop your blubbering." England ignored the question at first. "What do you care if I'm lacking anything or not?" He took a long sip of tea before finally finding answer to other's question. "I drink tea because it relaxes me."

"Maybe that's the lack of iron and not a good thing." America took a swig of cola. "Besides, tea is only good when it's sweet."

"Moron." England closed his eyes in disgust. "I've had your so called 'sweet tea' and honestly it ranks higher in sugar leaves than Canada's syrup. You're more likely to die of diabetes than I am form simple iron deficiency."

"Well I guess it's only right a bitter person would like everything else bitter too." America shrugged before downing the rest of his cola. "I'm too sweet for that."

England's bushy eyebrow twitched in anger. "Bitter huh?" He set his teacup in it's small saucer with a loud clink. "Don't try to flatter yourself Alfred," He used America's human name to quietly remind the man who raised him before he even held a national title. "You're not sweet at all. You're just a loud mouthed bloke. The only time you were sweet is when you were a kid and even then you were a huge brat."

"You still loved me even if I was a brat." America smirked. "As I recall, you even laughed when you saw the scribbles I colored on the walls."

"I didn't laugh because of the mess on my walls." England's voiced raised along with the redness in his cheeks. "The only reason I laughed was because you were dancing around singing my praises."

"I don't remember my singing your praises." America looked puzzled. "You must be mistaken."

"I'm not mistaken at all." England stuck his nose up slightly. "You drew the two of us holding hands with a mess of clouds in the background and you were singing my praises because I was in the process of baking you cookies."

"Oh yeah." America finally remember the whole event. "I ended up eating the whole batch and had to sleep in your bed because of my horrible stomach pains."

"I had warned you not to eat them all." England heaved a heavy sigh at the reminders of the happy times. "You poor brother didn't get a single one when France finally brought him over."

"Maybe had I known would miserable I would be ten minutes later I would have let him have a few." America shook his head in past shame. "I really tossed my cookies after that."

"You were pitiful." England nodded. "I had not a clue how to help you but let your small body take care of itself." He looked away, the chilling reminder of how worried he had been for the little colonies filled his mind.

"France blamed it all on your cooking." America chuckled lightly. "He said he wouldn't have even let Canada have one had I not eaten them all."

"The bloody bastard." England grumbled before picking up his tea and taking a few quick sips. "He always thought he could raise Canada better that I could. Had he let me see him more I would have proved him wrong. He's just jealous because I wouldn't let him have you."

"That would have been horrible." America shuttered at the thought of being raised by France. "I'm so glad you were the only one who raised me."

England froze at the younger man's words. "You are?" He breathed. "You're glad I raised you?"

"Of course." America smiled. "If you hadn't, I'd probably be quiet and unheroic like Canada."

"And all this time I thought you resented me for not being there enough." England blinked in disbelief. "I thought that was the reason you rebelled."

America shook his head. "I still wish you wouldn't have left me alone so much." He explained. "But that has very little to do with why I dissolved our brotherhood."

The painful memories of America's revolutionary war threatened to fill England's mind. "I tried my best to be the best older brother I could for you." He pushed the painful thoughts away with a long sip of tea. "You were so cute." New memories of America's childhood floated his thoughts. "I wanted to give you the world."

"I remember you singing me a song about that." America reminisced with a warm smile. "You had a relaxing singing voice. I haven't heard it in a long time."

"That's because I only sang for you." England finished his tea. "I don't sing now because I have no reason to."

"Would you really have bought me all though things from the song?" The younger man sounded somewhat like a child with such a question. "Or were you just coming up with things until I fell asleep."

"Had you asked for them and been well behaved I might have bought you a few of the things." England answered truthfully. "But the majority of the times you would awake up and have forgotten all about that silly little lullaby."

…

That night England snuck into America's old room. It had never been changed since the last night America had had stayed in it. England's ears deceived him with the faint sounds of baby America's adorable laughter. He missed everything about the past he shared with Alfred when he was small.

"Hush, little baby, don't say a word." England began singing quietly to the empty room. "Iggy's gonna by you a pirate ship."

"England?" America's voice made England jump. "What are you doing in here?"

"America." England's voice became nervous. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to hear I'm getting a pirate ship." America smiled like a mischievous child. He could see the older man's face turn completely red.

England cleared his throat. "Well it's just a song. It's not like I really have a ship I would give a git like you." He tried to change the subject. "Are you heading home soon?"

"I suppose." America nodded. "But I may need a ship to get back." England glared but it didn't stop America from winking with jest.

"Are you sure you should be going out when it's raining this late at night?" England asked with a bit of worry in his tone. "You know you can always stay here."

"The bed is too small though." America glanced over at his old bed that had been built for a small child. "Besides, I've already over stayed my welcome since I only came to help you with those few things."

"You can always stay in my bed." England blurted out before his brain could stop him. " I mean…" He blushed. "Of course, you would sleep in my bed and I would be on the sofa."

"I wouldn't have you stay on the couch." America shook his head. "You can sleep in your bed."

"Well it's not like I'd let you sleep on the couch either." England's eyebrows knitted together. "You are a guest in my home and should be comfortable."

"Who said I was even suggesting to sleep on the couch?" America smirked, taking England by huge surprise. "We could both share the bed."

"A-America." England's eyes widened over his blushing cheeks. "You know that sounds very awkward now that we are both adults."

"It would only be awkward to me if it were with any other adult." America took a few steps closer to the other man. "You're the only adult I've ever wanted to share a bed with."

"Alfred…" England stood frozen in shock as America began to invade his personal space. "What on earth are you trying to say?"

America carefully wrapped and arm around England's waist. "Can't you tell Iggy?" He smiled when his childish nickname for the man left is lips now to sound more like a petname. "I want to be with you."

"But in bed?" England's heart began to pound. "I'm not sure that is a very proper place for brothers to be just to be together."

"We're not brothers anymore." America reminded with a gleam in his eye. "But a bed is a proper place for lovers."

"Lovers?" England gulped down the forbidden word. "But America… we're not lovers."

"True." America nodded in agreement. "At lest, not yet we're not." With that he bent down and planted a firm kiss over England's lips.

England couldn't believe he was actually grateful for America's arm around his waist or he might have fallen with his knees turning into loose rubber. He could feel America's tongue run across his closed lips asking for entrance. Shaking, he finally gave in. This was so sudden but him the back of his mind England knew this is what he'd always wanted.

America pulled back to give them breath. "You taste like tea." He smiled with sparkles in his eyes.

The second breath England tried to take hitched at America's words. "Well you taste like sugar." He admitted.

"And you said you don't like sweet tea." America began to laugh. "Yet that's exactly what we make!"

"I guess you're right." England couldn't help but smile lightly. "But you're the only sweet tea I like."


End file.
